


Technique

by TheCursedTypewriter



Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: Hancio, Just a quick lil thing, M/M, very little editing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-02
Updated: 2017-05-02
Packaged: 2018-10-26 21:19:47
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 668
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10794960
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheCursedTypewriter/pseuds/TheCursedTypewriter
Summary: Lucio and Hanzo have a funny way of showing affection





	Technique

**Author's Note:**

> Ahhh, i'm stalling super hard on TDJGJ!! I'm sorry!!! D: I've been a lil busy lately, but while I haven't been completing chapter 5 I HAVE been planning out future chapters and scripting. Sorry to keep those who are on track with it waiting! It's a big project heheh. Anyhow, here's a VERY short Hancio fic, involving a headcanon of mine that Hanzo doesn't kiss/hug to show affection, necessarily.

Lucio and Hanzo enter the locker room huffing, both carrying a fair amount of bruises. It’s much quieter after hours when everyone’s gone to sleep, and they have the sparring floor to themselves. Lucio is the first to flop onto the nearest bench, hastily wiping the blood off of his nose with the back of a swollen hand. “I had it down-”

“The only thing you had ‘down’ was your guard.” Hanzo is busy at the sink, nabbing paper towels out of their dispensers with enough force to break the dispenser itself.

“No, my footing was just a little out of whack, alright-”

“He who chases two hares will not catch one.”

“Hanzo-”

“Your recklessness will cost you in time. Do you think it wise to rush into things head on without considering the consequences of your furor? Had I not refrained myself you could’ve been-”

“Man, will you quit talking down to me like i’m some kid!?”

The shout resonates in seemingly each empty locker, loudly enough to silence Hanzo from his heated ranting. He turns his attention away from the water swelling in the clogged sink and focuses it instead on the smaller man on the bench, who was unwrapping the bandaging around his fist carelessly, tugging and yanking to rearrange it. 

A part of Hanzo’s chest throbs at the sight. He knew that Lucio was only trying to impress. To appear stronger than he was. To satisfy some, numb part of him that only reached its hand out in Hanzo’s presence. It’s the same determination he’d seen in himself as a youth of a similar age. How desperately he worked to gain approval, how hard he pushed to exceed expectation. The nostalgic memory numbs his aggressive attitude, and he slowly turns off the still running faucet. 

The silence is muted by Lucio’s sniffling and hollow breaths, continuing to unwrap and re-wrap his hand over and over. He’d only tried to do as Hanzo had taught him, and in his attempt to go beyond what was expected, he near received a foot to the mouth and fell face first on the training mat. 

Lucio looks up past his lashes at the larger man before him, brows narrowed. Hanzo awaits childish sass, or even a sore comment on the spar itself. But there’s only those eyes. He seems to carry the world in those deep oaky eyes of his, and every time he looks his way, Hanzo feels as though he doesn’t deserve that gaze. He doesn’t deserve the love it seems to carry. Regardless, it’s a love that he craves each passing day.

“What..? Somethin’ else bleeding, too?” Another swipe across the nose, slower this time.

Hanzo’s chest hops with a soft chuckle, and he reaches his hand out to rest on Lucio’s shoulder. He doesn’t deserve Lucio, but perhaps Lucio is someone he’s really needed all his life. He offers Lucio a soggy paper towel, which is taken with mock haste. 

“Okay, now you’re just being weird.” Lucio’s stiff wall of anger seems to melt every silent second that passes, holding the paper towel under his runny nostrils.

Hanzo’s hand slides from his shoulder to the side of his neck, and gently does he rest his forehead against the other’s, eyelids drawing shut over soft eyes. Lucio remains still, watching his closed eyes carefully. He’d never really get used to the way Hanzo showed affection. But, he wasn’t exactly keen on complaining about it, either.

After a moment passes and the two collect their uneven breaths, Hanzo opens his eyes, enamored to find that Lucio’s had shut as well. He smiles gently, pulling away from the younger male all together and rising to his full height, adjusting the ribbon in his hair and turning to open the locker he’d left their belongings in. 

Lucio watches as he undoes the lock, carefully laying out their change of clothes.

“Come. After a shower, I will teach you how to properly wrap your hand for a sparring match.”


End file.
